


Y'shtola and M'naago: Tempered and Taken in Southern Thanalan

by aghastlyapparition



Series: Commissions [29]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amalj'aa (Final Fantasy XIV), Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Cowgirl Position, Creampie, Deepthroating, Desert, Doggy Style, Dubious Consent, F/M, Impregnation, Kissing, Mind Manipulation, Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Multi, Potions, Threesome, Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28514961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aghastlyapparition/pseuds/aghastlyapparition
Summary: Warning: Features dubious consent / mind-altering / light impregnation content.A lone Hyur adventurer sets on a quest to investigate a new plot by the Amalj'aa to control the minds of those they wish to temper in Ifrit's name using a potent potion... but after running into two world-famous Miqo'te maidens out in the desert, perhaps he can find a better use for the lizardfolk's elixir.
Series: Commissions [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1036700
Kudos: 8





	Y'shtola and M'naago: Tempered and Taken in Southern Thanalan

**Author's Note:**

> The work was commissioned. Final Fantasy XIV and all its associated characters and concepts belong to Square Enix.

The city-state of Ul’dah, bedecked in silks and anointed with spices, rose in concentric circles amongst the arid bluffs of Central Thanalan like a squat jewel, teeming with thronged masses amidst the throes of commerce. It was an easy place to earn a fortune and an easier place to lose to one, a deadly game of supply and demand that brought a great many to its shaded streets and market stalls. Anything, it was said, could be bought or sold in Ul’dah, and no small amount of adventurers sought to sell their sword arms alongside the city’s other services, just another way for one to risk one’s life for coin in this city.

It was one such sellsword who had been in the city but a few days, seeking out a job worth fighting for, who encountered word that a number of Amalj’aa, the reptilian beastfolk in service to the savage Primal, Ifrit, had been spotted in Southern Thanalan congregating in groups while undertaking strange activities. A contract was drawn and signed, a handsome sum of gil promised in return for a thorough investigation into the Amalj’aa schemes, with a bonus if they could be stopped and driven from the area. The potential dangers were great for going solo, but hey - that just meant he wouldn’t have to split the reward. 

The lone Hyur adventurer was loath to spend his few remaining gil on preparations - potions and elixirs, provisions and desert survival gear - but as the saying in Ul’dah goes, one must spend money to make money. So equipped, he headed out the great Gate of Thal and off into Thanalan proper. Following the path laid out in the questgiver’s rumors soon took him off of the main trade roads and into the badlands where they abut the perilous Sagolii Desert, near where the Amalj’aa were known to make their settlements. With luck, he would soon locate a gathering of the brutish lizardfolk and be able to ascertain the veracity of the claims that they were once again up to no good - a likely scenario, given that their whole race or near enough had given itself to opposition against all others in Ifrit’s name. 

At the time, however, he saw fit to set up camp for the approaching night, choosing a shaded bluff near enough to one of Southern Thanalan’s scattered springs so that water might be available, but far enough away that he needn’t worry about being stumbled upon during the night. He could even afford a small fire, if he kept the smoke low, a saving grace for when the temperature plummets with the setting of the sun. On the morrow he’d search for tracks that might lead to the Amalj’aa, but for the night he dreamt of a warm bed back at Ul’dah and a lass of every civilized race to share it with. Brave adventurer, they called him. Rich, handsome adventurer. He liked the sound of that. 

Morning brought the unforgiving heat to bear down on the badlands once more, and the adventurer awoke feeling as parched as a piece of buffalo jerky. He stumbled down from the rocks, eyes shielded against the glaring sun, to drink at the nearby spring. A convenient spot for desert wanderers, he mused. No wonder there were tribes of Miqo’te known to settle nearby such pools. By the Primals, what he wouldn’t give to take a dip with one of Thanalan’s svelte short-haired catfolk… but no, better to focus. Cats and their pussies could come  _ after _ he’d made a name for himself. Such was the way the world works, he supposed…

Hydrated then and with his gear on hand, the lone Hyur headed out once more in search of the tell-tale tracks of the Amalj’aa - bulky, reptilian bipeds with long and relatively slender tails, their footprints were unmistakable amongst all others who cross the cracked earth and scattered sands of this region. He picked up a trail before the sun had even struck its zenith, not far from a well-beaten path. Perhaps a lookout, watching for travelers on the road… whatever the case, they appeared to have found suitable prey, as the drags marks alongside the footprints would indicate. An unlucky merchant, or maybe even a less cautious adventurer. Whatever the case, the Amalj’aa scout’s victim was likely taken to a nearby camp to be offered up to Ifrit. Unlucky for them, but it sure made for an easy trail to follow. The adventurer counted his blessings, paying no more thought to whatever unfortunate soul was plucked off the road by the zealous lizardfolk.

It isn’t long before the tracks lead him to a break in the rocks occupied by around a dozen Amalj’aa, as best he could see. Taking a position near to the perimeter of their seemingly makeshift camp, he tried to keep a low profile as he took stock of their goings-on. As he understood, this was closer to Little Ala Mhigo than was typical for one of their forward camps, but it wasn’t entirely unheard of. The giver of his quest seemed to suspect some special circumstance behind their appearance here, and he’d hate to return to Ul’dah without worthwhile (and valuable) intel. And so, he observed.

The Amalj’aa had set up several large earthenware vessels around the camp, perched over low coals as they bubbled and boiled away, serving up clouds of noxious-colored vapor. A few of the lizardfolk wandered over every now and then to toss some new ingredient or another into the stew, while a minder stood nearby to keep the concoctions stirring. He pondered the purpose of this: Food? Elixirs? Toxins, or worse? His patience was soon rewarded, as it didn’t take more than a half-hour’s time for the purpose of such a brew to become clear to the concealed Hyur… 

The low, guttural growling of the Amalj’aa milling about the camp and the gentle whistling of the desert wind were interrupted by the sound of high-pitched screaming as a female Miqo’te, dressed in traveler’s garb and bound in heavy chains, was dragged out from one of the hastily erected shelters and brought to the center of the camp by a pair of particularly brawny guards. One of the assembled lizardfolk, bedecked in ceremonial gear, began to bark instructions at all assembled, coordinating the group to bring their prisoner to her knees while others fetched a rough-hewn bowl and filled it with the foul contents of the cauldrons to be brought forth and handed off to their leader. 

The Hyur’s grasp of the reptile’s language was far from perfect, but a few key words were clear as the master of the ceremony raised the bowl high above his head - intonations to Ifrit, of course… talk of a spread, no, a spreading… the Primal of Fire, passed now through water… to temper all. Uh-oh, that was not good, the adventurer thought to himself. The tempering, a means for the Amalj’aa to turn their captives loyal to their patron Primal… this elixir of theirs would allow them to spread it to everyone who drinks it? As if to confirm his theory, the head Amalj’aa brought the bowl down to the kneeling captive’s lips and wrenched her head back as she was fed the fruits of their labors. 

A moment passed in uncomfortable silence before the large lizard man pulled away from the bound Miqo’te. She blinked up at him with glassy eyes, her demeanor gone from one of futile resistance against her chains to a complete, placid calm. The Amalj’aa called out in celebration, and his followers returned in chorus. Further orders were given - to increase production, and to take this batch to an oasis north and west of here to be added to the water for a more proper “field test”. An oasis to the northwest… it rings in the Hyur’s mind as the one which he had departed that morning! They sought to contaminate the waters of Southern Thanalan, to leave all who contacted their concoction a placid, pliable subject ready to receive Ifrit’s will. That was big, he thought to himself. Big, and valuable. The folks back at Ul’dah were sure to reward him handsomely if he alerted them to the Amalj’aa’s plot. 

As he thought of his payday, hunched behind the nearby rocks, he took notice of a curious occurrence - the leader of the camp removed a small flask from his hip and offered his now-mindless prisoner a sip of its contents. Soon enough, the poor Miqo’te was snapped back to lucidity as she demanded to know what they have done to her, to be set free, anything but to be tempered. The Amalj’aa merely chuckled, noting to her guards that they could use her for future tests of the elixir before they took her away. So, the adventurer thought, there was an antidote. He would rather not risk combat against any number of the robust lizardfolk, but if instead of stopping them from contaminating the oasis he could merely steal the antidote at night and cleanse it the next day, well… surely such a heroic act would be worthy of a hefty bonus.

The worst part of waiting for nightfall was, well… the waiting. The second worst part was definitely the nerves, with a night raid on an enemy camp ahead of him. Thankfully, the reptilian Amalj’aa detested the cold desert night and their need for secrecy prevented them from lighting more than a low fire for the lookouts to congregate around for warmth. With more holes in their perimeter than a shredded cheesecloth, he was able to slip into their leader’s shelter and abscond with the antidote vial without too much effort. The thought of either slaying the head of the camp where he sleeps or freeing the captured Miqo’te  _ did  _ cross his mind, but either course of action would make getting back out unseen far more difficult, if not entirely impossible. He’d make sure to report her missing once he returned to the city - with luck someone would be willing to hire him back on for a proper rescue later. At the time, absconding with the means to neutralize the mind-numbing elixir was his priority as he furtively slunk away with prize in hand, headed back toward his makeshift camp and the spring near to it.

As it turned out, navigating back through the freezing desert in the middle of the night was a scant bit more difficult than following tracks during the day, and it wasn’t until the sun threatened the horizon that he found a trail to orient himself on. The day was in full bloom by the time he located the rocky outcropping marking his temporary campsite from the night before, and he found the promise of a rest in the shade after his all-nighter to be most inviting. So what if the Amalj’aa likely reached the nearby watering hole long before him? They could twiddle their tails for all he cared, nothing was getting done until he had had a nap. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone else would be out here to fall victim to their little “field test”... well, there was the abducted traveler from earlier… and he was out here too… but surely, no one else would wander so close to the Sagolii Desert without good reason! Surely.

So he afforded himself a short rest in the shade, a brief reprieve from the heat in return for a job well done… well, a job mostly done. All he had to do now was go and dump this antidote into the spring before he left for Ul’dah and his quest’s reward. As he lazed under the rocks, a grin on his lips, the Hyur swore he could hear someone approaching not far from where he rested - no, at least a pair of someones… female, it sounded, and… oh shit, they were headed for the nearby pool! He bolted upright, almost slamming his head against the overhang above as he grabbed the bag containing the Amalj’aa’s antidote and scrambled down the rocks in a hurry. Hopefully they hadn’t stopped yet to take a drink from the spring’s waters, he thought, as he approached a cluster of sandstone boulders lying between him and the oasis before stopping quite suddenly in his tracks.

Peering around the boulder, he could see not just any two weary travellers stopped at the water’s edge, but rather two Miqo’te of renown. Any adventurer worth their salt would be able to recognize the cultured conjuror and Scion of the Seventh Dawn, Y’shtola. A lithe, tan Seeker of the Sun, her short white hair gathered in two front tails was unmistakable, in no small part thanks to the Hyur’s long-standing interest in her ever since eyeing her from afar in La Noscea. Beyond wealth and fame, adventuring was always a means for him to the end of getting a chance to meet with Y’shtola, perhaps even to spend some “quality time” with her… And her companion, another Seeker of the Sun, fit of figure with peachy hair chopped rough and gathered loosely in the back… M’naago was her name, he thought. A prominent fighter in the resistance he could remember from a brief time passing through Little Ala Mhigo. So, Y’shtola and her were friends? The young Scion certainly knew how to choose pleasant company. Still, what were they doing all the way out here?

Unable to make out much of their words from his vantage point, the lone Hyur simply observed as the two of them unbuckled their packs and traveling gear, stretching with all the catlike grace of their species once relieved of their burdens. So, they merely needed a spot to rest on the way to some important mission far above his pay grade? Simple enough, except… what followed sent a shock of surprise through his system once again, his limbs going stiff as his blood ran icy in his veins - the fight or flight feeling of witnessing something forbidden, dangerous to behold, even, as the two Miqo’te women, celebrities in their own right, began to undress. How could he, a simple Hyur ruled by simple passions, do anything but stare transfixed as the most desired Miqo’te of the realm and her companion began to work at the clasps and buckles of their traveling garb, shedding first their outer layer to reveal the gentle drop of their slender shoulders as they reached inward to shrug off their tunics below. 

The Hyur’s breath caught in his throat as Y’shtola and M’naago took their time to gently fold their tops as they chatted casually among themselves, their torsos clad now in nothing more than simple underclothes which did little to hide the perfect curve of their respective chests. As they bent down to deposit their garments on a nearby stone, he could not help but imagine that the pair were offering him a private show, turning their still-dressed bottoms toward his direction and baring the smooth surface of their backs to him, their tails dancing high and rhythmic in the air as they reached down to drop off their tops and began working at removing their pants in near synchronicity. 

Both of the women wore fairly form-fitting leggings, with Y’shtola’s appearing to be made of shining silk or some similar fabric, while M’naago’s were a much more practical leather set fastened with protective armor plates. Such intricacies were lost on the observing adventurer, however, as each of the women began to peel back their pants, rolling their legging down the soft squish of their thighs and crouching low to slip each leg over pointed toes to be folded alongside the rest of their outfits. That left the two of them standing in nothing more than their undergarments, and they giggled playfully at the sight of one another - Y’shtola, a vision of slim, petite beauty, her skin the color of well-oiled sandalwood, and the trim and fit M’naago, whose soft curves barely concealed the hard-won muscle beneath, and whose skin was traced with a pattern of faint scars earned each in the name of her homeland.

The Scion gave a small movement of her delicate chin, her lips mouthing a request he could not hear before she turned around to offer her back to her companion. M’naago worked at the clasp of Y’shtola’s undergarments, her fingers well-practiced in the motions. As soon as the top popped off, Y’shtola carefully tossed it onto the pile of discarded garments, turning around to perform the same service for the Ala Mhigan before their peeping Tom could catch more than a glimpse of brown on tan - not due to any sense of modesty on her part, however, for as soon as her compatriot’s top was removed they both laughed playfully, turning around in the sun to revel in the freedom of outdoor nudity. By now only their bottoms remained, and those garments too were soon removed with balanced hop-steps and tossed aside as the two girls approached the water’s edge, ready to test the temperature of the desert spring before wading in.

The sight of their bodies bared fully before him drove the Hyur wild, and he could no longer ignore the throbbing in his breeches as his excited member strained to be free. Although the Miqo’te lasses were a distance away, the contrast of their dark, chocolate-colored nipples and the peek of pink between their legs as they stepped deeper into the pool was enough material for him, certainly more than he would have hoped for in a lifetime. To think, Y’shtola herself, nude and bathing not more a few dozen yards from him! He could not help himself, he needed to pull out his cock and rub one out among the stones while he had the chance to - wait, Y’shtola… bathing. Bathing… in the Amalj’aa’s poison! By the Twelve, he had let himself get distracted completely from the whole reason for his being here! He carefully stuffed his half-drawn cock back down the leg of his pants and fastened them up, his mind racing. If he simply pretended to be arriving just now with the antidote, someone who had no idea two esteemed Miqo’te were sharing a private moment at the spring, well… surely they’d be grateful for his assistance? Perhaps they’d even reward him… should he ask for Y’shtola’s panties as a souvenir? He shook his head, deigning to worry about such matters  _ after _ he’d succeeded in rescuing them from the lizardfolk’s foul brew.

The Hyur dashed out from behind the rocks, sprinting toward the pool with arms waving overhead. “Ladies, ladies!”, he called, attempting to draw their attention. “You must get out of the water, immediately! The Amalj’aa have laid a trap!”. At last, he reached the water’s edge, fully expecting to be berated for intruding upon their nudity, knowing that all will be well once he cleared things up… except no such condemnation came. In fact, there was little reaction at all from the two bathers, and certainly no attempt by them to cover up their nubile forms from full display. The great Scion Y’shtola and her friend M’naago simply regarded him with placid smiles,turning their hips and swinging their arms to gently swish the water around them to-and-fro. The realization dawned quickly upon him: it was too late. In but a few moments, the lizardfolk’s poisonous elixir had taken over their systems, reducing the pair into little more than sheep for Ifrit’s flock. Still, there was no reason he couldn’t get the antidote to them now, if they’d just come ashore… but after a little thought, a different idea began to form in his mind. One not altruistic, but rather opportunistic. The chance that he’d have the Miqo’te of his dreams so receptive before him ever again was doubtful beyond all measure. And the fact that her rather fine friend was in the same predicament, well… who could blame him for what followed?

He’d take them, and impregnate them. Whether they remember his deeds or not, he intended to fuck the great Y’shtola there and now, to bury himself and his seed deep within her world-famous cunt as many times as he liked, before taking M’naago in turn for much of the same. To have them both, to leave his mark upon the world in the form of children born and raised by two of the greatest Miqo'te in the realm. And of course, he’d have his fun in doing so. 

Committed to this new plan of action, the adventurer quickly kicked off his boots and breeches before throwing off his jacket and shirt, dressing down to nothing but his obscenely tented underclothes. He took a swig of the Amalj’aa’s antidote, about a third of the bottle, and set it off to the side. His hope was that would be enough to inure his body to the insidious elixir’s effects, as he immediately strode to the spring and lowered himself down to sit upon the lip of the pool, dangling his legs into the soothing, if tainted, waters. He took a deep breath, allowed a moment to pass - no change. He stared down at Y’shtola, drinking in the sight of her perfect petite breasts barely below the surface of the oasis, the light of the blazing desert sun dancing gently across them - her only reaction at his approach was to tilt her head inquisitively, as an animal might. Good, he thought. This was what he wanted. He raised one hand and beckoned, directing her attention between his legs. 

“Over here, Y’shtola."

She obeyed.

“Good girl.”

Having drifted to the water’s edge and parked herself between the Hyur’s knees, Y’shtola was then directed to touch him. With the soft, pampered hands of a conjurer, she explored his thighs, traced his abs, played at the edge of his undergarments, even caressed the steel-hard rod straining fiercely against the cloth. Her touch was honey to him, so sweet, so indulgent of his basest cravings. His precum darkened the front of his briefs and pooled out through the fibers, so unrestrained was his arousal at her proximity. To feel her touch, her breath, then see her gaze expectantly upward, receptive to further instructions... it was a dream come true. 

The next order of business was a no-brainer as far as the adventurer was concerned. He ordered the Scion to free his cock from its prison, to grip it, squeeze it gently, feel its heat rival the desert stones surrounding them… and of course, to wrap her lips around it. Y’shtola opened wide, pushing her tongue out and forward in a perverse display as she guided his throbbing member toward her sticky, steaming mouth. With a soft, affirmative sound, she popped the head of his cock past her lips, her jaw held wide to accommodate the girth of him. He could not help but moan unbidden as she took him in her mouth, the soft scraping of her rough-textured tongue exquisite against the taut underside of his shaft as it pressed in deep to the back of her palate. 

She took him well, he mused, even with minimal instruction. Surely the Amalj’aa elixir did not confer such skills. Perhaps Y’shtola was merely a natural talent at such things? Or perhaps she was well-trained… No way of getting an answer out of her now, but both possibilities amused him greatly. Either he was taking her virgin mouth or the great Scion herself was a whore behind closed doors. What mattered now was she was giving  _ him _ head, a privilege he intended to enjoy.

Reaching out, he ran his fingers through her pure white hair as she suckled gently on his cock, making soft mewling sounds all the while. He moaned, gripping her hair tightly as he directed her mouth in small circular motions around the tip of his penis, content for a moment more to hold her at a distance, to admire the sight of her mouth wrapped halfway down his length as he pressed insistently against the barrier of her throat. M’naago watched, her addled senses transfixed on the only action in the area, her own tongue lolling out absentmindedly past her lips in unconscious imitation of Y’shtola’s actions. The resistance fighter's toned tummy gently heaved as she imagined having a turn swallowing the same shaft as her sister-in-arms, interpreting the Hyur's actions through her mental fog as those of a leader, to be followed with innocent abandon. She did not even notice the wetness growing unbidden between her own legs only inches above the water's surface, so fixated was she on the scene unfolding before her.

Pleasure built in the Hyur’s cock as his idol diligently worked it with every warm, wet surface of her mouth, his swollen head straining against its instinct to push further in, to introduce the rest of his shaft to her satisfaction, to bury itself deeply and completely within this new source of exquisite stimulation. And when that instinct finally built itself to a point where it could no longer be ignored, the Hyur adventurer did something he had dreamed about countless lonely nights with his cock in hand and no one to tend to it - he took hold of Y’shtola by her twin tails as if grabbing the reins of a Chocobo, and he  _ pulled _ . Pulled her face down into his lap, felt the satisfying  _ pop _ as his cock pushed into her throat, heard the obscene sputtering, glucking grunt the Miqo'te maiden made as he claimed her mouth entirely. Her esophagus wrapped tight around his shaft, quaking and vibrating as she struggled to breath, sputtering fruitlessly against his weighty balls, hanging low in the desert heat. So much pleasure, so much ecstatic treatment of every sense, and all for what was only one thrust, the first of many deep into her throat. 

Having had a taste, the adventurer commenced to fuck the esteemed Scion’s face in earnest. Using the convenient handles provided by her side tails, he moved her entire head back and forth on his shaft, treating her like little more than a toy to be used at his leisure… which in effect, he mused wryly, she now was. With each plunge of her lips down to the base of his substantial cock, a soft muffled moan was forced out of her struggling airway, sputtering forth great gobs of slick saliva to smear across his inches and drool down to his swinging balls below before spattering amongst the stones and spring water. Such a dedicated service as this would fetch a hefty price among Ul’dah’s whores, if he could even find one talented enough to take him so diligently, so completely, without protest.  _ Whore.  _ Y’shtola was his whore, alright, and he deigned to give her vapid body some reprieve from his full facial assault in order to position her head lower between his legs, guiding her by her hair as he placed his slimy, split-coated cock across her face so that he might admire the sight of the realm’s greatest Miqo’te panting beneath his raging erection as his balls rested weighty and full on her chin, eager for their chance to pump a full load of potent sperm inside of her waiting pussy and impregnate her.

Fat dollops of viscous precum pushed forth from his throbbing cock head with each pulse of its raised, raging veins, the salty-sweet fluid dripping down in thick strings to mat the Miqo’te’s bone-white hair as he absent-mindedly ground her face into the underside of his cock, driving his shaft against her soft, sun-warmed cheeks as he drunk in the sight of her beneath him - a glorious sight which he should remember all his days, he was sure. Still, making memories was nothing in comparison to the vital urges of the moment, and he soon returned to his work. Keeping Y’shtola low, he raised himself to his feet and guided the tip of his cock back between her battered brown lips before thrusting his hips forward to buck away at her face and throat as he held her still beneath him. 

There was a subtle yet potent difference between sitting back and pleasuring oneself with a person’s holes versus standing up to put in the bodily work. He felt powerful, aggressive even, his adventure-hardened body glistening with the sweat of exertion as he pounded away at the poor subservient Scion’s face. Her brow furrowed and her torso heaved, more from instinct than any conscious thought, and poor neglected M’naago drifted over with a gentle splash to hold Y’shtola upright and in place at his command before leaning in to rain soft kisses across his face and chest as he directed her attention across his body.

So served above as below by two beautiful Miqo’te mouths, a thousand frustrated fantasies were released from the Hyur all at once, traveling from his core down to his cock as he gave Y’shtola’s pretty little face every ounce of longing he had held on to through his career. Looking down at her straining, sucking,  _ smiling _ from the corners of her lewdly stretched lips at being given purpose in her receptive state… it was enough to send him hurtling toward his edge, toward every mental signpost that says “Turn back! Point of No Return ahead!”. Only through a miraculous exertion of willpower was he able to release her, push her away, stumble back as he panted heavily with his cock twitching wild and wet in the air.

No. 

As much as his electrified nerves screamed at him to plunge back into the Y’shtola’s mouth, waiting warm and inviting mere inches away with her tongue pushed out as if eagerly awaiting his load, he refused. He wouldn’t waste a drop cumming deep down her throat, filling her stomach with his pent-up seed, no. He just needed to relax a moment, catch his breath, and let the real fun begin - taking her petite pretty pussy so that he could soak her insides so thoroughly that there would be no doubt she walked away from this encounter impregnated by his potent sperm. He could only pray to the Twelve that it was the right time of this month for her to be ready to receive him, to take in his essence and carry it with her for the next nine.

Having composed himself somewhat and allowed his body to retreat from its imminent orgasm, he waded deeper into the pool by a few steps to gently guide the still-dazed Y’shtola, completely unfazed by the rough throatfuck she just endured, over toward the water’s edge. He posed her much like one would a doll, guiding her limbs and body with gentle encouragement as he bent her forward at the waist, supporting her weight with palms flat on dry ground. A little bend of the knees, a little arch of the back, aaand… perfect! “Good girl”, he cooed once again, gently patting her on the head before turning toward M’naago. Stand there and watch, he told her, watch as he took her kitty cat friend from behind like a dog. The comparison amused him, and he smirked. Watch and pay attention, Little Ala Mhigan, for she’ll be next. And to her credit, she obeyed, peering diligently at the pair of them as he took his place behind Y’shtola’s upturned rump.

He would think, staring down at the great Scion’s cute and curvy butt before him, that the day could not get any better. Her warm tan moon, crowned with a swishing silverlight tail, the sight of her smooth back stretching out, rising to meet soft shoulders and the roughly-tousled back of her pure white hair… Truly, a perfect vision sent from the seven heavens. Indeed, he might think that the day could not get any better, except for the simple fact that laid across her offered ass was his sticky, throbbing cock, soon to plunge inside the dewey folds of her petite little pussy. 

Reaching down, he gripped his cock firm around the base in one shaking hand, his whole body quivering with disbelief at what he was about to do. He placed the other onto her hip, gently squeezing the soft curve of her, admiring its silken smoothness and vital warmth for a moment before guiding her back onto him. The tip of his penis, twitching and eager, pressed up against the warm, wet heat between her legs, slowly spreading her deep tan lips to reveal the peek of pale pink within as he slid in further and further, watching each inch of him disappear into the burning furnace of her tight, writhing insides. A low moan escaped them both, a visceral instinct in response to such sweet, slow penetration. 

The squirming Scion’s sweet pussy was beyond anything he could have imagined, beyond that of any two-gil whore or temporary party member he’d experienced in his life thus far. To be sure, the stimulation of his mind, of his heart, was on a level to rival that which his body was now experiencing, wrapped as his member was in her slick, supple warmth. The fact that he was fucking - finally! - the great Y’shtola herself, and under such… risky circumstances. To have the perfectly toned and battle-hardened M’naago standing at attention nearby, watching eagerly as she awaited her turn… “Fuck.”, was all he could say. A statement of fact, an exclamation of incredulity, and, to Y’shtola’s receptive state of mind, a command to be followed.

She pushed back against him, sinking his cock completely within her to bottom out against her posterior fornix. She stretched out around him, her body squeezing tight to his shaft as she pulled forward again, drawing him back out until only the head remained buried inside, massaged by the steady pulse of her kegels before she pushed back once more. This time, he thrust his hips forward to meet her, and her ass clapped loud against his toned stomach as the momentum swung his balls forward to slap against her pubic mound with a sharp sting that gave way to a dull, throbbing pleasure. Soon, they both built up to a steady rhythm as he pounded away at her from behind, deigning to rain a few sharp  _ smacks _ across her ass and admire the bright welts that rose in the shape of his palm. “Far from the only mark I’ll leave you with.”, he grunted, taking hold of her bouncing tail by the base and fucking her with a burst of ferocity. 

Slowing down, he exhaled a long sigh and leaned forward across her body, all the better to explore her with his hands as his hips kept up the pace. He roamed across her back, her sides, wrapping around to grope at her firm, tiny tits as he laid himself across her. His fingers found the firm nubs of her stiff little nipples, pinching and squeezing and tugging at them as he nuzzled his chin against the crook of her neck, enjoying each panting breath and small squeal of pleasure that passed her spit-streaked lips. Before pushing himself upright again, he took a moment to permit his hands to wander low to base of her stomach, to feel the rise and fall in her body as she heaved with each thrust of his rod-hard erection, to feel the spot where her belly would grow when she carried his child, a permanent reminder of her time spent as a fuck-addled cock sleeve to be bred by the first Hyur to pass by.

Carrying on, he took his time to wholly enjoy the Scion’s tight, dripping hole as he switched up the pace from quick, pistonlike thrusts to long, drawn-out strokes, from steady, insistent, pounding rhythms to erratic staccato beats punctuated with grunting moans and sharp slaps across her wriggling ass. “Tell me how much you like it, you breeder whore.”, he commanded, receiving naught but a wordless cascade of primal moans. “Barely capable of speech, eh? Nod your head then. Tell me you want my seed, Scion. Tell me you want it as bad as I’ve been waiting for this chance to fill you up.” Dutifully, the Miqo’te woman nodded in assent, her head rocking back and forth with each increasingly frenzied slam of his fat cock against her insides. Her tongue lolled freely, bouncing about as it flung delicate trails of saliva to and fro. Her entire body shuddered, stimulated to an orgasm she was barely able to be aware of. Even so, the sudden seizing contractions that gripped at his shaft were enough to drive his raging libido overboard, and he cried out for her to take it as he pulled her hips back on him and buried himself completely within her.

His testicles pulled tight against him as his pelvic floor pulsed, spurting rope after rope of sticky thick semen deep inside of the great and graceful Y'shtola, reduced now to nothing more than his breeding mare. With nowhere to go, his seed soaked every fold of her insides, dousing the firm ring of her cervix before being pushed out by the next shot of cum to fill her up. His whole body shook as he pushed every desire he had into her shivering pussy, cresting wave after wave of orgasm until his cum slipped out of her stretched hole to fall in great gobs into the spring below. There existed no doubt in his mind - barring the intervention of the gods themselves, this woman could escape being impregnated by such a load. Not to say, of course, that he wouldn’t deliver her another one to be more than certain... but for the moment, fallen across his elixir-bound lover in a panting, sweaty heap, he desired a brief moment to rest and refresh before the second round.

Pulling himself apart from her was like unstopping a cork, and Y'shtola's tight cunt pushed out even more of his cum as it contracted in his absence. He took a seat next to her on the side of the pool, and pushed her shoulders down toward the ground to angle her ass further upward, all the better to direct his semen downward inside her. Leaning back, he relaxed, one hand gently running through the still fuck-addled Scion's disheveled hair as he scratched her behind her perky, twitching ears. With the other, he directed M'naago to take a seat on his other side before running his palm across her back, from the soft base of her tail up to her exquisitely muscled shoulders, traced with faint scars. His mind already began to wonder as he caught his breath - how will he have her? The possibilities were endless, and he was sure she'd do anything... well, after the work he had just put Y'shtola through, it might be nice to have her put in some effort. Have her up in his lap, perhaps? The thought summoned a twitch from his spent, cummy cock, in positive response. He could hardly wait, even as his body took its time to recuperate after such a vigorous fuck.

Passing the time was simple enough for him, with two beautiful young women to either side of him. His hands snaked out, exploring each of their contrasting bodies as he appreciated every quality that set them apart from each other. Y’shtola’s soft body, petite and pampered by a life spent in study, yet with a trim fitness born from numerous expeditions across the land that offered a surprising lift and firmness to each of her curves. Her ass was plump, her breasts perky, giving way to his touch and springing back life as he led his hands elsewhere. Her companion, on the other hand - literally and figuratively - bore feminine curves layered over corded, toned muscle. The definition in her abs, her arms, her glutes, was subtle yet unmistakable present. His fingers traced many scars, some delicate and some deep, a story of her hardships writ in flesh. Her markings, her physique, only served to make her more gorgeous in his eyes. This was a body used to being used - he appreciated that in a woman near as much as he loved the delicate perfection of the conjuror to his other side. 

As he fondled each of the Miqo’te women, he soon became aware that his cock was swelling quickly to full mast, eager already to have another go, to dump another load. Such a raging erection would be difficult to ignore, even if he did find his restful exploration of their bodies somewhat soothing. "Very well, then. Up up, M'naago!", he commanded, directing her above and across him. Aligning her wispy, unshaven pussy with the eager erection standing upright between his legs, he had her squat down onto him, lower and lower. "That's right, girl... Lower, lower. Just like riding a Chocobo." The resistance fighter’s toned thighs flexed taut as she brought the steamy heat of her eager cunt to bear against his shaft. A mewling escaped her lips as the Hyur’s cock spread her lips wide and pushed inside of her. While Y’shtola’s pussy held him tight but gently, with all the springy firmness of a naturally petite hole, M’naago’s muscular pelvis  _ squeezed  _ him, gripping firm at his shaft as he penetrated deep into the heart of her. Her core flexed, abs tightening up as her stomach distended ever so slightly to accommodate his girth. Her hard tan body practically glistened in the sun as a thin sheen of sweat flowed in gentle rivulets down the deep lines of her physique. A sight of beauty, he reckoned, a magnificent contrast to the Scion’s demure frame. Her ample chest swaying gently before his face as she shifted her weight upon him was no small bonus either.

Steadily, he guided her by her hips to ride up and down on his raging cock, imprinting on her mind the simple suggestion of bouncing up and down in his lap. Soon, M’naago took initiative for herself, no longer following his leady but rising and falling of her own accord and permitting him to lean back, propping himself up with his palms as he focused fully on the stimulation of his shaft. A wet, sloppy slapping sound rose up as her body responded further, and soon her natural juices flowed freely down his well-polished cock to be churned into a pale, grooly foam with the steady pounding of pelvis to pelvis. The thick layer of lubrication permitted her to slide him fully in and out of her with each drop of her hips, and he directed her to pick up the pace if she wanted his seed inside of her. She complied, riding away with near-reckless abandon. 

Sitting back as M’naago worked his knob with a passion was nice enough, sure. A treatment fit for a king, even. And the Hyur took no small measure of joy to watch her put in all the work, serving him diligently at his command. Her powerful hips driving up and down like a piston in tandem with her tight, toned pussy could drive him wild for hours if he felt so inclined, but no - the Hyur had a more vital need, to take further charge, to truly lay claim to the famous resistance fighter in body and in lineage. Lowering himself completely onto his back, his hands were now free to clap down on M’naago’s firm rear end, causing a shiver in her body as the sharp sting spread across her skin. With ass in hand and back braced, he was free to buck his hips up to meet her as she descends, thrusting powerfully past her cervix to bottom out with blunt impact against her anterior vestibule, filling her roughly, entirely, her sharp gasp and his deep grunt harmonizing in the air. 

He pounded away at her as their bodies, both sculpted and marked by adventuresome combat, strained with each frantic movement. With every thrust she bounced off of his hips, hanging above for a moment before gravity took over and brought her down again to meet him. His hands roamed free, alternating between sweetly sharp blows across her clapping ass to rhythmic, tugging gropes of her healthy chest. Her breasts, ample in comparison to the Scion’s own, provided a delightful handful as he played at her engorged nipples, pinching and tugging all the while she rode him. And then, inspiration: seeking to mix things up, the Hyur pulled himself upright against her body, bringing his shoulders forward as he scooted his hips back to shift the center of their gravity. M’naago leaned backward in his arms, suspended over the pool as he sat upright at its edge, head free to attack her exposed breasts with his lips, his teeth, his tongue. 

He tasted the saltiness clinging to her warm skin, felt the small bumps that ring the dark areola around her stiff nipples as he took them into his mouth one at a time, admiring their rough texture with his tongue in comparison to the smooth surface of her chest. He suckled gently, then harder, harder still, before nibbling the firm nub between his teeth and tensing between his legs to feel how her body tightens up at the stimulation. His tongue traced wide, flat circles around the nipple of her right breast before he moved higher, lapping at her collarbone, higher, to taste the crook of her neck, and higher still, until his mouth found hers and they fucked face-to-face over the pool as he supported her head in one heavy hand. 

Lips locked with the Little Ala Mhigan, he gazed into her burnt orange eyes writ large with unfiltered ecstasy. No shame remained thanks to the Amalj’aa’s elixir, and she made no attempt to look away or close her eyes as he kissed her. deep and passionate and probing, continuing to bounce her up and down in his lap all the while. His mouth swallowed her moans, each one rising in pitch as he thrust harder and faster, cock throbbing wildly within her as he strained to stave off his orgasm for just a second more, a second more of riding the peak of pleasure as her body clamped down around his invading member, unconsciously eager to milk from him every last drop of potent seed. It was a powerful push, and one no mortal man could endure for long.

He fell onto his back once more while giving a loud cry of visceral pleasure, practically throwing M’naago over his chest with the momentum. His hips bucked and bounced the small, muscular woman on top of him as he came, pressing the tip of his cock against her cervix with each desperate burst of burning hot semen, his seed spilling out of her stuffed cunt, running over his pulsing testicles pulled tight to his body to join the growing stain pooling the rocks between their legs. Somewhere in the chaos of convulsing bodies, his unfocused eyes found M’naago’s face and he pulled her close to him, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. The two of them rode out his thorough creampie locked together in a sweaty, sticky heap, his sloppy cock twitching with every subtle movement of her body as he allowed himself to grow soft within her before finally flopping out with a spurt of spent cum, flaccid and satisfied.

The Hyur released a sigh of release and relief, pleased to have taken both Miqo’te back-to-back. He reached up to scratch at M’naago’s hair absentmindedly, watching her tail swish through the air over her shoulder as she purred gently at the touch. She may lead a more violent life than Y’shtola, may be less prone to maternal instinct than the sweet and caring Scion, but if her wish was to rebuild her lost home, he had no doubt that she’d make a fine choice for his child. With such thoughts in mind, he tapped the resistance fighter’s rump and directed her to rise, getting up himself before calling Y’shtola over as well. He took stock of both women, each a sticky, sweaty mess with the evidence of their lovemaking staining their inner thighs. Each a perfect expression of Miqo’te beauty in their own right, each gazing empty-eyed and eager to receive new direction. Very well, he supposed. Perhaps one session with each was not enough to fully guarantee their impregnation. Or perhaps it is, and he just wanted another taste of their fine, feline bodies. Either way, his cock was ready and willing, growing quick and throbbing tall between his legs at another chance of sweet, wet, oh-so-tight pussy.

But first, a cleaning was in order. At his direction, the two Miqo’te celebrities took a knee in the pool before him, the cool water of the oasis rising up to the level of their belly buttons. He bid them take hold of his erection in one hand each, to lean in and coddle it within their grasp, to lick and play at it with their tongues until it was thoroughly cleaned of their lewd juices and the sticky remnants of his own ejaculation - oh, and of course, ro give a good show of washing each other down while they did so. Seeing the two of them vying for his cock as they lapped at its surface with an almost kittenlike innocence, mewling all the while they splish and splash about to scrub the sweat and semen from their nubile forms sent a fresh flow of viscous precum pooling at the swollen head of his well-tended member. They licked at the salty-sweet liquid eagerly, following his orders to clean him to the best of their ability, the very nature of their task making it impossible to complete. No, now that they had started there was only one way to calm him down again.

“Y’shtola, lay down for me over there, yes. Spread your legs. M’naago, crawl over her, your butt facing me. Excellent.”

In just a few short moments, he had the two of them prepped and ready to take him in tandem - the supple Scion on her back, legs bent over the edge of the pool, and her hardy friend bent over her face-to-face. Their freshly washed pussies pressed together out toward him, a fuckable sandwich of warm, writhing flesh just waiting for his filling. The only question was who to take first… Y’shtola’s prime, nubile little hole or M’naago’s tight, battle-hardened cunt? He stepped forward, slipping his cock into the press of their bodies, thrusting between their smooth, flat bellies a few times before drawing back and placing the head of his fat dripping cock between the Scion’s lower lips. She had always been his true goal, and the experience of fucking her the first time was exquisite beyond belief. If anyone deserved his seed inside them while he still had a potent load to shoot, it was her. He pushed himself inside of her once again, watching the pleasure spread unconsciously across her features as he told her what a good breeding slut she was.

He gave Y’shtola a series of slow, smooth thrusts, gripping M’naago’s raised hips for support as he slid his cock deep into the Miqo’te splayed out below her. Each push of his hips causes the pleasure to build between his legs, a tingling sensation growing at the base of his cock at first before creeping up the shaft, a building static that crackles across his nerves like electricity, threatening to release all of its potential energy like a crack of lightning once it reaches the utmost tip of his penis to cause a rolling thunder of shuddering contractions. Pushed to his limit, he raises a flattened hand and slaps M’naago across her ripe ass, whipping his cock out of Y’shtola’s sloppy cunt and driving it into the neglected resistance fighter, grabbing her tail tight to pull her back onto him as he bottomed out inside of her with his first thrust.

Grunting with exertion, he gritted his teeth and clenched the muscles in his legs to stave off the oncoming orgasm, adjusting his pace and the depth of his follow-up thrusts to keep himself on the edge as long as possible. When the effort became too great to bear, he pulled out to catch his breath for but a moment before diving back in to fuck the other girl. He alternated between the two of them in such a fashion, his cock wet with both their juices as he took a turn with each again and again, swapping back and forth as he tortured himself on the razor-sharp edge of orgasm. The two women moaned in mewling chorus, twin toys at the voracious whims of the Hyur, breasts and tails swaying in unison with each push against their bodies as his desperate cock buried itself inside their sopping, sloppy pussies. Their complete, combined domination laid bare before him in a writhing, well-fucked pile of burnished brown flesh called for nothing less than a complete and thorough impregnation, and his fists tightened as his resolve finally gave way and allowed his pelvic floor to contract, throwing out a spray of semen deep into Y’shtola once again. 

The floodgates now broken, his mind slipped into the overwhelming current of orgasmic release as he filled her up with his cum. Still, he pulled out, a fat white rope of his seed spurting across their bodies as he thrust his still-cumming cock into M’naago next to provide her a second creampie of her own. Once the thick load gushed out of her stretched hole and past his twitching shaft he swapped the cummy member back down to Y’shtola’s leaking pussy, pushing out his own cum in great gobs as his hyper-sensitive head abutted the quivering entrance of her cervix as the last of his orgasm soaked her insides with a warm, steady flow. He held himself there inside of her, plugging her creampied cunt with his well-nursed cock as M’naago wriggled above her, semen dripping down her legs and falling across Y’shtola’s exposed belly as it gently rose and fell in the wake of her ordeal. 

Time passed, perhaps more than was wise given the presence of Amalj’aa in the region, as the Hyur savored the presence of the Miqo’te women laid out before him, savored the sensation of Y’shtola’s pussy gently massaging his shrinking cock with every movement of her body until it finally fell free and limp. Suddenly, he returned to his senses, as if the breaking of this last physical connection between them was able to snap him out of some sort of reverie. He shielded his eyes with one hand, gazing up into the cloudless turquoise sky to take stock of the time of day. Not particularly late, but the amount of time he had spent filling up these girls came as a shock nonetheless. It truly felt like he was in another world all the while, a time both blissfully dilated and cut achingly short as he realized that if he wished to make it to a settlement before nightfall, he’d have to leave the oasis and his two temporary lovers sooner rather than later.

With a bittersweet sigh of satisfaction, he quickly rubbed himself clean in the desert spring, drifting away from the edge of the pool to float toward its center, better to wash his face with fresh water well away from all the bodily fluids splattered near the edge. For one last hurrah, he invited Y’shtola and M’naago to join him in properly bathing, helping the two of them clean every nook and cranny as they massaged his travel-weary and fucked out frame before he instructed them to perform the same for each other - a small show while he dressed, another priceless memory to be remembered again and again as he followed the careers of the two Miqo’te with interest. Would they announce their pregnancies to the public? Retire to family life? What an interesting future awaited him… it was enough to make the next day worth looking forward to.

Dressed and with the rest of his traveling gear gathered, only one task remained before heading out to complete his quest - standing at the edge of the pool, he upended the container of Amalj’aa antidote into the oasis, watching how the liquid spread across the surface of the water with a reflective, oily sheen. He imagined it must be fast-acting, but admitted in his mind that it wasn’t exactly like he had performed any thorough testing… Still, he had better leave quickly, eager now to hit the road before the two bathing catgirls came to their senses and demanded an explanation. Would they even remember him? Would their bodies remember his touch, the girth of him filling them up inside? Would they remember his voice, directing, requesting, commanding with all the confidence of one who knows they shall not be opposed? He’d certainly remember them, for their perfect shapely forms, each unique and precious, for their natural instinct to please when all else was stripped away, for how their bodies responded when touched, rubbed, prodded,  _ fucked _ . True naturals indeed, primed for lovemaking - something he often heard of Miqo’te women but had never found exemplified more truly than today.

He turned his back on them and headed off, a tune on his lips for the first time in months...

The city-state of Ul’dah, bedecked in silks and anointed with spices, rose still like a squat jewel, its streets and alleys choked with every manner of merchant and mercenary. It was an easy place to earn a fortune, they said, all vying to make one gil more than the person next to them. For one Hyur adventurer, a fortune may yet be out of his grasp, but Ul’dah was able to provide something much greater than he believed any amount of money could buy. Where once he stood, eyeing a quest flier to investigate zealous lizardfolk in the desert, he now read a broadsheet posted to report on the latest rumor within the city and surrounding areas - a rumor that the Scion of the Seventh Dawn herself, Y’shtola, was expecting? What salacious news, and with no father identified… why, people far and wide would hear of this scandal. He grinned. His name might not be in the gossip rag but he could not help but feel a claim to fame to see such speculation across the realm, with everyone, including the Scion herself, none the wiser that it was just a weary sellsword, one among thousands, who stumbled into the right situation at the right time.

Perhaps he should pay a visit to Little Ala Mhigo and see what the resistance fighters have to say about their beloved leader now...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments welcome.
> 
> My info can be found [here.](https://www.hentai-foundry.com/user/aghastlyapparition/profile)


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